


Declivity

by gardenofstardust



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-08
Updated: 2011-09-08
Packaged: 2017-10-23 13:03:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardenofstardust/pseuds/gardenofstardust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He. Was not. Going. Mad. "My soul is sick. There's . . . something wrong with it. There was something in Noah's book." Confessions of what Kid's turning into, and the cure that is his lover. Can Soul save him from the dark? Post 70-72. Oneshot. KidxSoul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Declivity

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All original Soul Eater characters, story, and affiliated media are copyright (c) 2004 by Atsushi Okubo. Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies in no way own the Soul Eater series.
> 
> Mistletoe Trip Story copyright (c) 2009 by Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies  
> _______________________________________________________________________
> 
> A/N: This is post 70-72, so there are SPOILERS! Also, is yaoi het. Not your thing, I suggest you hit the back button. ^^  
> _____________________________________________________________
> 
> Prompt: Temptation, Madness, Kid angsts
> 
> Pairings: KidxSoul
> 
> Written For: Myself, to cure my need for random KiSo fluffy/lemon/angsts
> 
> Words: 4,102

It called to him. Beckoned him.

Death the Kid would find it on the silvery, steamed-up surface of his bathroom mirror, after stepping out of the shower. It would look him straight in the face, and he would shiver. The morning sunlight would be streaming in from the window. It gilded across the mirror. It made his ochre eyes glow. At first, the young shinigami tried to ignore the creeping feeling. He told himself to forget about what his father had told him. It was not there. He was fine. His soul was healthy. He was okay, he was okay, he was okay, _there was nothing wrong with him._ Lying to himself felt far better than allowing it to consume. To eat away at his psyche and his mental health.

He. Was not. Going. Mad.

He tried to hide it from his weapons, but Liz and Patti could tell right away. After he returned from his imprisonment, his wavelength was off. At first, it was obviously attributed to the trauma of being kidnapped and held captive by a possible pedophile and his psycho-masochist demon tool. They hadn’t said anything when the demon pistols began to realize that it went beyond that. Of course, he couldn’t hide it from his weapons for long. He was their meister—their bullets were his soul, pieces of his heart. Meister and weapon were connected in ways that ran deep. Connecting souls was one of the most intimate acts one could experience, and it was necessary for Soul Resonance. Kid often worried about how his own condition would affect his two best friends. He wrung his hands over it.

He had started training with Soul as soon as he had physically recovered enough to fight. A meister-weapon relationship had bloomed into romance as their power grew. It had amazed Kid, the way the Death Scythe bent to his will under his hands, spinning and circling and clashing metal-on-metal as he learned the dance and syntax of Soul’s being. Maka’s fighting style was like choreography, graceful yet deadly, and the shinigami picked it up quickly and easily, falling into the flowing cadence of tai jutsu like he’d been executing it all his life.

But that _thing_ had ruined his soul.

Noah was keeping something horribly powerful and malevolent in his book. Its wavelength dripped in concentrated madness, its aura made of nothing more than soupy reddish haze. A thick, disgusting tar of blood, blood, blood, soaking red, red, red into the eyes.

He told himself he could handle it.

He couldn’t.

Of course, it was Soul he worried for the most. His love, his sweetheart, the apple of his eye. Yes. He worried. Sometimes, as Kid stared into the mirror, it would disgust him. He would hate himself. The bile would rise up. He’d sacrifice the contents of his stomach to the sewers. At this point, he was beginning to feel useless. It seemed that being useless was one of the deepest fears of a Shibusen student. Denying oneself the fight, trying to keep in downtime, having no one or nothing to protect. Or just simply going mad.

But he was not going mad.

It was his mantra, a repetition he used to reassure himself.

Useless. He was not useless, and _Goddammit he was not going mad._ But it still watched him.

Eventually, the visions and thoughts would fade, and nothing much would be left.

Just sunlight. Just death god.

And the reddish puzzle pieces of madness.

 

“What’s wrong?”

The question was placed out there. It suspended itself on the quiet firelight-air of Kid’s bedroom. The young shinigami looked up, his liquid-gold eyes drawn to blood-red ones. Soul’s white, spiky hair was sticking up comically on one side. Asymmetrical, from laying his head on the pillow, as he wrote out fact after fact on notecards. The contents of the school project the two boys were working on was spread between them. Kid had drawn everything—the demon weapon had watched in fascination as the young artist’s deft fingers flowed over the paper, flicking the yellow pencil where it needed to go. Large red eyes held Kid’s, as he paused in his drawing.

“Nothing.” Kid reached over and smoothed down the left side of Soul’s hair. The soft locks slipped between his fingers as he restored the small semblance of symmetry Soul's hair could retain. His boyfriend scowled and flinched back.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kid was satisfied with the white spikes, so he resumed drawing. He heard Soul emit a small “tch” and shift his weight, favoring to lean back against the king sized bed. Kid had his back to his desk. The smooth wood supported his spine. A soft hand fluttered over his shoulder, and he looked down to find his boyfriend burrowing into his arms.He pulled Soul close, so that the white head rested in the crook between his neck and shoulder. Red eyes now could see what the slender hand was drawing, as he draped his legs over his boyfriend's. Soft lips rested idly on Soul's head and Kid adjusted his arms as he stopped wriggling.

“So. I wanna know what’s up.”

Kid sighed and rolled his eyes, “Nothing is up. I don’t know why you’re projecting issues where there are none.”

“But I’m _not_. There’s something off about you. It’s in your eyes.” The last sentence was murmured. Kid felt his heart speed up, and wondered if Soul could hear it. Damn, his lover was perceptive. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Soul’s pianist-hands wandered their way into Kid’s silky black and white hair. The fingers ran through the three half-completed sanzu lines, which encircled the left side of Kid’s crown. The shinigami relaxed visibly at Soul’s gentle touch, “Please tell me.”

“I’m getting tired; I want to go to bed soon.” Kid shifted away from Soul, and dropped his completed piece of cardboard, “Would you like to take a shower together?”

Soul sat back, surprised by the sudden distraction. He sighed, obviously resigning himself to no answer. A grin spread across his face, “Last one to the bathroom gets bottom.”

“Okay!”

“HEY! I didn’t say go!” Soul laughed.

He chased after his boyfriend, fuming that the shinigami made it in first. He stopped as he entered Kid’s large bathroom, closing the door behind him. Kid was leaning casually against the counter, and a slow, sexy smile spread across his lovely oval-shaped face. Soul smiled shyly, suddenly finding interest in the floor, as he sensed the approach of his seme. Soul’s bronze cheek was soft under Kid’s porcelain fingers. He stroked his index along the cheekbone, before hooking it under Soul’s chin and lifting his face. The taller boy leaned down, and softly brushed his silky lips over Soul’s.

“Shouldn’t we start the shower and get in, first?” Soul whispered.

Kid’s smile widened, “Remove your clothes.”

Soul flushed, despite the fact that he’d heard it many times before. He listened obediently to his seme, and began to undress as Kid released him. He turned away in order to adjust the water. Its sound was rain, Soul thought, as he heard it hit the ceramic bottom of the shower. The relentless, steady sound soothed his anxiety over Kid, as he stripped the last of his clothes. The shower was an ample size, with a bench set into the wall along the back, and various shelves to hold items overhead.

Kid adjusted the hot and cold respectively.

Face was intent with focus.

Hands were delicate as they turned the knobs.

Kid lacked at nothing, and gave his all for everything.

The shinigami leaned back, satisfied, and turned to see Soul standing nude before him. His eyes sank with lust, going half-lidded.

He began to slip out of his own clothing.

Kid stepped into the shower first, beckoning Soul to follow. He did, and waited patiently as Kid slid the glass door closed behind them. His hands were soft and gentle against Soul’s body. Skilled fingers delicately traced muscles. Kid’s tongue pressed against Soul’s lips, commanding. The demon weapon allowed him in, and reveled in the unique sugar-and-ashes flavor that was his boyfriend. Soul emitted his first moan as Kid’s hands found his hips, and traced the contours there. The Death Scythe kissed Kid a bit harder; his lips begged the shinigami not to torment him. Kid chuckled softly, the baritone cadence lilting against Soul’s sensitive ears.The young musician nuzzled Kid’s neck. His soft lips and sharp teeth nipped at the pale skin. He was suddenly pushed under the shower, and Soul looked up in bewilderment as they were bombarded with streams of water.

Soul found himself pushed up against the wall. He stared up into huge, smoldering gold eyes. They always managed to hypnotize him. He gasped and moaned as slender white hands slid over his member. He tangled his hands in dark hair, pulling him down for another heated kiss. Kid allowed it, as his fingers guided Soul in a slow, steady rhythm, enjoying the soft moans and squeaks of pleasure his uke emitted. Soul arched his back against Kid. “Uhhhnn . . . Kiddo-kun . . . harder, _harder_ . . . mmmm . . .” Kid smile evilly, and instead left Soul alone.

“No.” He whispered it hotly in Soul’s ear.

His boyfriend shuddered in his arms, and he pushed Soul back hard. His uke groaned with anticipation and lust, his voice broken in half. Aw, dammit. Kid found himself unable to resist. It was the long, low moans, and the delectable way Soul’s full, soft lips were slightly parted, eyes closed and head tilted back. Kid wanted to make him moan more. He released Soul, and descended to his knees. His lover groaned and tangled his fingers once again in his dark hair, as his soft, hot tongue wrapped around him. Soul rocked his hips in time, thrusting hard into the welcoming mouth. Kid groaned, his eyes closed as he pleasured his boyfriend and gently ran his hands over bronze thighs.

“Ah! Ahhh . . . Kiiid . . . uuhhnnnnn . . .” Soul writhed in pleasure now, as Kid’s soft mouth sucked harder, from his base all the way up to his head. He squeaked again as the hot tongue hit a sweet spot, and pulled at inky hair. Kid could tell from his lover’s moans that he was already close to the edge. He focused. Slender hands moved around to cup Soul’s bottom to steady him, and sucked all the harder, swirling his tongue with practiced ease as he took in his love's reactions. Soul squeaked again, the sound singing through the shower, and rammed his hips harder into Kid's mouth. His breaths became more jagged, and his cries increased in volume. Kid kept up, suppressing his gag reflex, and swirled his tongue once again over Soul’s sweet spot. Soul shouted, and it was four more thrusts before he orgasmed.

Kid swallowed, then ran his fingers over his lips as Soul sagged back against the wall, his breath coming in hard gasps. Golden eyes stared up at him, as two fingers delicately wiped Soul’s seed away from his full lips. Eyes were dilated and hazy. Black hair stuck to his cheeks and neck, the dark swirls contrasting sharply with his fair skin.

Soul opened his eyes, and stared at Kid kneeling before him. He smiled. Kid smiled back. He stood, and paused for a moment to work out the cricks in his knees that resulted from kneeling on a hard surface too long. He kissed Soul sweetly, then brought him over to the bench. Kid laid Soul back over it. It was large, and fit him comfortably. Wide red eyes watched slanted golden ones as Kid climbed up after. He leaned down and kissed Soul, before he drew back, and grabbed a bottle of personal lubricant. He kept it in the shower just for this purpose. His smile was dark as he dipped his fingers in, allowing the slippery liquid to coat them. He watched Soul, observing the round, adorable features as the pretty boy watched him back. Kid's lips were soft against Soul’s, and his breath hitched as two fingers were slid smoothly inside him. He groaned and wriggled as his face flushed with desire. His body screamed for sexual attention. The scythe dug his fingernails hard into Kid’s shoulders.

Kid struck up a steady pace, earning Soul’s moans and gasps. The shinigami bit his lip, trying to keep control of himself, as his Death Scythe writhed under him. Soul was warm and tight around his fingers, and the lubricant made his flesh slick. Kid leaned down and kissed the other boy, to muffle his moans. Soul’s fingernails were creating imprints in his shoulders, he was sure. He pushed harder and faster, and Soul shouted in ecstasy, his hands scrabbling at Kid’s back. The dark boy found it to be too much, and quickly pulled out his fingers.

He quickly and messily slathered himself with lubricant, and pushed his way into Soul’s body. The demon weapon gasped, startled. Kid watched as Soul’s pleasing face contorted into a delightful expression of sexual bliss. Kid drew himself out, and plunged back in again. Soul cried out, his back arching. The shinigami leaned down and kissed the other boy passionately, his thrusts regular. Kid’s own long, low moans joined Soul’s, the shinigami’s baritone much more steady and melodic than his more human counterpart, “Mmmmm . . . Soouull . . . uuuuhhnnnn . . . you feel _good_ . . . uuhhnnn . . .”

Soul’s muscles clamped down around his length, tight. Kid gasped, and thrust harder. Soul closed his eyes, his mouth open wide as he struggled for air. Kid only half-saw it, his own eyes half closed as he thrust even harder. Soul wriggled under him, trying to get his partner to rub harder and better against the inside of his flesh. The other boy complied, and was satisfied when Soul squeaked and gasped his lover’s name as his prostate was hit. His body _vibrated_ with the sensation. Kid could hear his soul, singing the melody of a dark, frenetic piano, and played against his own soul, a high, sweet cello. Kid groaned again, as Soul’s hot muscles slammed down around him.Kid gasped when Soul came, as his body struggled in ecstasy under his own. Kid orgasmed right after, allowing the high to sing across his vision in sparks of white.

He groaned. His arms gave out, and he flopped against Soul’s chest. The young god closed his eyes as the up and down motion of Soul’s heaving chest calmed him. His heartbeat was a steady _thrumthrumthrumthrum_ against Kid's ear. He closed his eyes, taking in the breathing and the thrumming.

At last, when the two boys had recovered sufficiently and caught their breath, both sat up and stared at each other. Kid found himself lost in the way Soul’s fair hair stuck to his dark skin, the white standing out against apricot. He smiled softly and touched Soul’s cheek, “You’re beautiful.” He laughed at the red flush that bloomed across his lover’s face. His eyes were cast down, and Kid could see water droplets clinging to his thick gossamer lashes. Fairy-spun ice. Kid kissed him tenderly on the forehead, “You blush everytime I say that.” Soul mumbled something or another about not deserving such a gorgeous and sweet boyfriend. Or something along those lines, anyway.

Both boys finished their shower quickly. Kid shut off the water, and stepped out. He picked up a towel, which he handed to Soul, before he wrapped one around himself. The demon scythe followed his lover from the bathroom, the lovely steam from the water soaking into the mirror and rendering it metallic.Kid sat down on the bed. Soul snuggled in after, and wondered if they might cuddle under the covers, or perhaps make love some more. Kid smelled good, fragrant with soap. His hair stuck appealingly to his face and neck, the ebony strands contrasted sharply against the creamy, flawless skin. His flesh was still warm from the heat of the water. Soul was surprised, however, when Kid leaned over and reached into the drawer of his nightstand. He produced a comb, and handed it to Soul, “Comb my hair, please?”

“Sure.” Soul smiled, and accepted the comb.

Kid closed his eyes as Soul’s deft fingers ran through his silky, wet hair. He alternated the comb and his fingers, making sure to do sets, eight strokes for each. The obsessive-compulsive teenager would normally have corrected him, but right now, he was relaxed as Soul undid the tangles in his hair. The Death Scythe leaned forward and kissed Kid’s neck softly. Right on the spine, where his neck smoothed out into his well-muscled back. Soul watched the defined muscles, encased in Kid’s flawless skin. He brushed out the tangles in a symmetrical fashion. Just like Kid preferred.

“I love you.” It was whispered softly. Kid shifted at the words. He had heard them many times, but for some reason they made him feel guilty at the moment.

“I love you, too.”

“It’s good not to suppress things. You should talk about what’s bothering you.” A stroke of the comb. His hand. A stroke of the comb. His hand. He would do it four more times, then start over on another set. The rhythm was soothing to Kid. He chewed on Soul’s advice, rolling the words on his tongue. They settled down there. Crossed their legs. Became comfortable. When Death the Kid opened his mouth, all he could produce was a sigh. The words vanished, and he allowed himself to swallow them. He would say nothing. No need to worry Soul. The pianist hand was gentle as an index and middle finger were brushed over his cheek. Kid could feel the calluses there, which resulted from hours of playing piano. He closed his eyes. The death god allowed himself to sink back into Soul’s firm chest. His shoulders slouched. His face smoothed. There was the soft touch of lips over ear as Soul lightly kissed him.

“I’m worried about you. Your wavelength has been becoming more and more . . . strange. There’s something up with you.”

Liquid-gold eyes snapped open. Kid’s head turned, his soft hair tickling Soul’s skin. He peered at the side of Soul’s face. It was a small portion. An eye. Cheekbone. Lips. Soul’s eyes were intent on him. Watching. Kid leaned his head against the strong muscles of his lover’s shoulder. His eyes closed. Soul’s hands fluttered over the curves of a forehead, a nose, a pair of soft, velvety lips, a chin. The shinigami opened his eyes again as he felt gentle lips press to his temple. He started when the soothing presence of another soul brushed up against his. He turned and stared at the demon weapon. No. He would not let Soul see it. Not the mess his shinigami soul was turning into.

Soul hesitated as his second meister pulled back. His soul was withdrawing, retreating back into itself. He stared, huge red eyes narrowed. There was something wrong.

“We should get dressed.” Soul grabbed his arm before he could move away. His fingers began to cool over Kid’s hot skin. Golden eyes stared at him, irritated, “Let me go.”

“No.” Soul pulled back.

Kid yanked.

His arm slid through his weapon’s fingers, and he struggled out of the bed, leaving the towel tangled among the covers. Intense red eyes glared at Kid’s back as he moved to the wardrobe. The demon weapon stood and followed. Kid was careful to stay guarded. Barriers were thrown up. No way was Soul going to crack him. He opened a drawer, and pulled out clean clothing, which he handed off to his weapon, before grabbing his own. A long, breezy sigh issued from behind him as he heard the rustle of Soul dressing himself. He turned, and smiled. The clothing was a bit too large on the other boy, and draped baggily over his slender body. Soul shot him a “don’t-you-dare-laugh-it’s-not-cool” look, before turning away, for the bed. His expression was skeptical. They normally didn’t bother dressing. Excuses, excuses.

Kid’s smile faded. He pulled on the last of his clothing, and made for the bed after Soul. The demon weapon had already settled himself under the covers. His gaze was sardonic as Kid followed after. The shinigami hesitated for a moment, but Soul held his arms open. Kid smiled gently, and snuggled close. The two boys laid down, golden sunshine and red blood locking and observing. Soul closed his eyes when Kid pushed a few stray hairs back from the other’s nose.

“I’m worried about you, Love.” Kid’s hand stopped on his scalp. He stared at his fingers tangled through the white fibers. Soul’s face was serene, though, eyes still closed. Kid’s heart tugged. Only at rare times did Soul call him that, and only when they were alone. Sure, he kept up his cool façade, but he was truly a sucker for romance, much like Kid was. He was touched. Guilt ate him again. The concept of telling Soul traveled through his mind. How would he word it? What could he _say_?

Soft hands touched his face, and wrapped around his neck, “Tell me. Why did your soul stir just now?”

“I—um—I have—um . . .”

“You can tell me.” Red velvet eyes. Soft fingers on his neck.

Kid closed his eyes. He leaned his head into Soul’s chest. He burrowed his face in the curved hollow between Soul’s chin and his collarbone. The demon weapon’s breath was soft and smelled like mint toothpaste. He picked up the rhythm of the breaths, and tried to match it. Something like a slow piano song traveled through his mind. Kid took a deep breath.

“My soul is sick.”

Soul’s breath stilled on his face, “What?”

“My soul is sick. There’s . . . something wrong with it. There was something in Noah’s book.”

“What do you mean, sick?” The boy stirred and sat up, sharp red eyes boring in, “What was in Noah’s book?”

Kid watched those red eyes for a long time. Soul awaited the answer, his gaze intent. Kid sat up. He explained. The book. The constant fear of rape by his captors. The black thing that he’d come into contact with. The way it had touched him, passed _through_ him. The temptation of madness. He struggled with Soul’s eyes as the facts were relayed. By the time he was done, the demon weapon was staring at the covers. His expression injured itself. Kid reached over and touched his cheek.

He tried his best with conviction, but it was handled clumsily, and fell off his shoulders.

“I’m still me. I won’t let it get me.”

“I’m not sure what to say.”

“I have you.”

Soul was startled from his reverie into looking at Kid. Golden eyes struggled among the storm of madness, confusion, and his love for a scythe. A young shinigami was pulled into a hug, and reassurances were whispered to him. He was rocked and cuddled and sung to. He was wrapped in the music of a piano and the calloused hands of the player. He closed his eyes, allowing the soft music of the other boy’s soul to wash over him. The piano was soft and dark, so very like Soul. Twisted, yet more pure than he was. Kid scrunched his face at the thought. He didn’t deserve this tenderness. Kid didn’t realize tears were falling until a small sound escaped his lips. Soul’s embrace tightened.

“I know.”

He knew.

 

The next morning, when Kid woke up, Soul was still asleep. He stared at the calm face, smooth as it always was. Soul was always so laid back. His red eyes were hazy, his smile soft and casual. His hair even was relaxed, sticking up in pell-mell, uneven spikes. Softly fallen snow, built up in drifts. The thought made Kid smile, and run his hand through his lover’s hair. He made a decision. Madness would not consume him. He would watch the power of himself and his Death Scythe grow. They would watch their darkness together.

Black blood and contamination. Demons and black book-curses.

It would all be faced.

It would all be okay. 


End file.
